


Cold Front

by TheDVirus



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Deception, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, Fluff, Foreplay, Friendship/Love, Future, Future Fic, Gay, Gay Bar, Kissing, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Neck Kissing, Nightclub, Nygmobblepot, Romantic Fluff, Secret Lovers, Secret Relationship, Touching, cocktails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDVirus/pseuds/TheDVirus
Summary: Ed goes to the grand opening of his former friend Oswald's new nightclub 'The Iceberg Lounge'.A request courtesy of @witchunters ;)





	Cold Front

The martini was watered down.  
Ed pursed his lips and pushed it dismissively away from him, sliding the glass along the smooth surface of the bar.  
He swung around in his barstool and surveyed his surroundings with a critical eye.  
The bar formerly known as ‘The Sirens’ certainly looked different. Oswald had knocked down a couple of walls and expanded the floorplan. A massive ice sculpture of penguins gambolling and swimming sat in the centre of the busy dancefloor which was lit up to resemble a twinkling night sky. Above Ed’s head a crystal chandelier cast rainbow diamonds on the walls as it twinkled and spun lazily. Comfortable booths packed with people were lined against the dark blue walls with mirrors set into them making the place seem even larger. Above the art deco inspired double doored entrance there was a large neon sign in cursive script.

‘The Iceberg Lounge’, Ed read aloud.

Seemed like Oswald’s ‘opening night’ was going well.

'You got my invitation'.

Ed swivelled at the sound of Oswald’s voice and was surprised at the sight that greeted him.

Oswald was dressed in a black and white tailored tuxedo with a smart, black top hat crowning the ensemble. He had a girl on each arm (both dressed in leotards, fishnet stockings and bowler hats) and a black umbrella in one white gloved hand. He smiled as he approached Ed and the monocle sitting over his left eye gleamed.

‘I wasn't doing anything else’, Ed said nonchalantly, trying to ignore the suggestive memories that Oswald’s outfit evoked, ‘Thought I would maybe find some sophistication'.

‘Well you’ve come to the right place’, Oswald said, waving a hand to dismiss his living arm accessories, ‘It took a while to wash away the stench of Barbara Keane’s mediocrity but I think it’s cleaned up quite nicely’.

‘Speaking of which, new look?’

‘Work clothes. What do you think?’ 

Oswald gave a small spin and tipped his hat, leaning on his umbrella.

'A bit over the top isn't it?' Ed deadpanned.

'I thought you of all people would approve', Oswald said, picking up Ed’s bowler hat from the bar and spinning it on one finger.

Ed grabbed the hat and put it back down. Oswald put his top hat over it, covering it completely.

'I didn't realise my approval meant so much to you’, Ed said in a deliberately unimpressed tone, ‘Should I be flattered?'

'To be blunt, yes’, Oswald said, brow furrowing, ’These invitations were highly sought after'.

'So why send me one? We’re not exactly friends'.

'Old times sake', Oswald said unable to keep a treacherous hint of nostalgia from his voice.

‘Gordon turned you down’.

‘Oh please’, Oswald said rolling his eyes, ’You think he could appreciate this place?’

'So you invited me because you wanted to show off'.

'Guilty and it’s only worthwhile showing off to someone who can appreciate the little things’.

‘Little things like the fact that for an ice themed nightclub, I notice there are quite a few plants around’.

Oswald glanced around at the large potted ferns flanking each doorway and waved a hand.

‘I think they add some colour to the décor’, he said.

‘And the subtle hypnotic scents they emit prevent guests from making a fuss over other little things. Like overpriced cocktails or watered down martinis’.

Ed slid the full martini glass over to Oswald. Oswald gave him a hard look then snapped his fingers. A bartender materialized and took the martini. Ed saw her begin to make a new one.

‘Your little inoculation pet project worked then’, Oswald said, eyes narrowing.

Ed knew it wasn’t a question. He helped himself to a peanut from a bowl on the bar, flicking it into the air and catching it with his mouth. Oswald watched him with distaste.

‘It was easy to counteract the effects of Ivy’s plants once I applied myself properly’, he said proudly.

‘It must be nice to have so much free time on your hands’, Oswald grumbled.

'The ice’, Ed said, pointing at the ostentatious ice sculpture, ‘Fries I assume'.

'You assume right'.

'What's next? Live penguins as waiters?' Ed joked, crunching another peanut.

'Why would I need them when I have such lovely ladies in my employ?'

'Some may accuse you of compensating for something’.

He reached for another peanut but Oswald put his hand over his. Ed was about to ask what Oswald thought he was doing but realised Oswald was just moving his hand away from the bowl. The bowl was slid along the bar, out of Ed’s reach, and Oswald’s umbrella placed pointedly where it had been sitting. Ed couldn’t ignore the way the metal point at the end caught the light. 

'They would only accuse the once’, Oswald said, eyes narrowed, ‘I assure you'.

The bartender brought Ed his second martini. Ed ate the olive and idly stirred his new drink with the cocktail stick.

'I believe I saw that particular lovely lady on the evening news’, he commented, watching the bartender move on to the next customer, ‘Double homicide’.

'Good eye but it was self-defence. Besides, Raven has paid her debt to society. It’s very difficult for female ex-cons to get respectable employment in this city'.

'Very sentimental of you to offer these lost souls a purpose'.

Ed sucked on the cocktail stick suggestively and was rewarded with Oswald’s face momentarily colouring before he recovered his composure. 

'You of all people should know what a capable mentor I can be’, Oswald said, one pale eye glinting behind the monocle, ‘Employing these ladies is also profitable. Have I mentioned Magpie’s eye for detail or Canary's lovely singing voice?'

Ed, slightly abashed by Oswald bringing up their shared history in public, countered Oswald’s preening.

'I take it you mean Magpie's document forgery abilities and that Canary got out of a prison sentence for robbing Gotham First National Bank by ratting out all her accomplices?’

The cocktail stick poked out jauntily from between his teeth as he grinned.  
Oswald’s fingers tapped the top of his umbrella agitatedly. 

'You're well informed'.

'I do my research', Ed shrugged off-handedly.

'Should _I_ be the one flattered now? Or irritated at your prying?'

'Why Oswald? Got something to hide? Thought you were a legitimate businessman now', Ed said, taking a sip of his martini, ‘By the way you can add 'impressed' to the range of emotions you’re feeling if you like’.

'So, you're not impressed by ice that never melts but expect me to be impressed by you watching a news bulletin or two?'

'Look, is the evening's entertainment going to consist solely of an umbrella measuring contest or are we actually going to get down to business?'

He blinked as Oswald suddenly grabbed the cocktail stick out of his mouth. Oswald snapped it between two fingers and threw the remains into Ed’s unfinished martini.

'Lark, we'll be in the office’, Oswald said coolly to a passing waitress, ‘Make sure we're not disturbed'.

‘Yessir Mr Cobblepot’, the leggy blonde said cheerily before throwing Ed a look that was obviously designed to kill him.

Ed smiled smugly in response and threw a companionable arm around Oswald as they left the bar. Oswald stiffened beneath his arm but did not shake him off until he was forced to in order to manage the stairs.

'I don't think Lark likes me very much', Ed commented as they approached the door to Oswald’s office.

'The staff are rather protective of me’, Oswald replied, unlocking it, ‘And they know we have…history’.

 

He opened the door and nodded inside. Ed walked past him and whistled appreciatively.

Like the lounge proper, Oswald’s office was primarily painted dark blue with rich wooden furniture. Behind a large desk and its accompanying leather chair, a vast window looked down onto the lounges dancefloor. Ed was impressed by the lack of sound from below: soundproof and more than likely bulletproof. Just in case. Around the room were various cabinets full of ornaments and valuable objects and a number of bookshelves, every shelf packed with leather bound ledgers. Ed also noted and approved of the lack of security cameras. One wall contained a huge fish tank full of multicoloured exotic species. Looking closely, Ed realised it was merely a projection: a piece of moving art, not a physical object.

Once he was sure the door was locked, Oswald smiled warmly at Ed, his impersonal façade instantly defrosting now they were alone.

‘The interview process you designed worked perfectly', he concluded.

‘If only they knew’, Ed laughed in reply, ‘None of them suspect a thing?’

‘They’re so convinced we’re enemies I’m surprised they let you in’, Oswald said, holding out a hand for Ed’s hat, ‘Even with an invitation’.

Ed gave it to him and Oswald turned to hang both their hats on a nearby rack.

‘They didn’t. I got in through the back entrance’, Ed smiled, playfully squeezing one of Oswald buttocks once his back was turned.

Oswald 'hmmed' appreciatively at the gesture.

‘Well now we’re alone’, Oswald said, placing both hats carefully, ‘You can tell me what you really think of the place’.

Ed walked to the window and looked down into the lounge.  
He placed both palms on the window, arms spread wide as he soaked it in.

Oswald looked on fondly, hoping Ed liked what he saw. He had played an integral yet totally secret part in its design after all.  
The same went for their current relationship model.  
They couldn’t openly be together. It was too risky: too many enemies.  
So they kept it a secret, feigning disinterest or hostility every time they met in public. They treated it like a game: verbal sparring that inevitably led to a very satisfying sex session when they next met up alone and could be themselves once more. They both thrived on the ‘I know something you don’t know’ aspect of the arrangement: the knowledge that they were a united front was a beautiful secret. And Oswald thrilled at the fact that it excited Ed like nothing else. 

‘This place’, Ed said, an undercurrent of wonder in his voice, ‘is a work of art. The ice, the outfits, the lights. It’s beautiful’.

Oswald felt himself blush at Ed’s praise.  
He came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist. Ed leant back into the embrace.

‘I know how the view could be improved’, Oswald cooed and Ed gasped in mock horror as he felt Oswald begin to fiddle with his belt buckle.

‘Why Mr Penguin, I didn’t realise this was _that_ kind of establishment!’ he said in a scandalized voice at odds with his enthusiastic grin.

‘Yes you did’, Oswald said in a low voice as he undid Ed’s zipper, ‘I saw all those little signals you were sending down there. It took a lot of self-control not to have you right on that bar’.

Ed turned and kissed Oswald while simultaneously undoing his belt in turn.  
As their tongues lashed together and their gasps and moans increased in intensity, both men also removed their jackets.  
Ed broke away first in order to undo his tie. Oswald took the time to place his monocle in an inside pocket.

‘Health and safety may have had something to say about that’, Ed said breathlessly, ‘Speaking of which, that expensive desk looks uncomfortable’.

Oswald took Ed’s loosened tie and threw it over his shoulder.  
He led Ed by the hand to the desk and manoeuvred it to flick a hidden switch.  
Ed watched as the fish tank projection he had noticed before flickered and died. The wall panel it had occupied slid back and a full size double bed slid into the room.  
It was covered in green silk sheets and had black feathers scattered on it.

‘A secret love nest?’ Ed smiled, eyes lighting up.

Oswald smiled as well: all the hard work to keep Ed from seeing that part of the architectural plans had been worth it just to surprise him. 

‘Just for us’, Oswald whispered.

This time it was Ed who took control, leading Oswald towards the bed. He sat down and pulled Oswald to sit on his knee.

‘So you liked my little show with the cocktail stick’, Ed smirked, running one finger up Oswald’s chest, ‘Give you some ideas maybe?’

‘I don’t know’, Oswald said coyly, running both hands down his crisp white shirt as he began to unbutton it, ‘Do you like my new clothes?’

‘I should have never told you about that hallucination’, Ed said with mock self-reproach.

‘Why? Is it giving _you_ ideas?’ Oswald growled lustfully, nipping at Ed’s neck with sharp teeth.

Ed moaned and gripped the back of Oswald’s head to hold him in place as he began to suck hard. Ed bucked his hips beneath Oswald from the sensation and hissed through clenched teeth at the pleasurable pain.  
Then suddenly, Oswald moved away.  
Ed made a longing noise but opened his eyes as he felt Oswald loop something over his neck.

He looked at the silver chain in puzzlement and examined the key on the end. ‘Iceberg Lounge Master Key’ was engraved on the metal surface.

‘It’s all ours Ed’, Oswald said, stroking his face lovingly.

Ed’s eyelids fluttered and he leant into the warmth of Oswald’s gloved hand.  
Then found himself flung down on the bed.  
Black feathers scattered around them as Oswald descended towards him.

‘And you’re all mine’, he whispered, nuzzling Ed's forehead affectionately

Ed wrapped both legs around Oswald's waist and drew him closer.

‘Always’, Ed mouthed pulling his lover in for another kiss.


End file.
